Home sweet Halle an der Saale

On my way from Berlin to Dresden, I couldn’t pass up the chance to go visit my old home Halle an der Saale, which I hadn’t seen in six years. I don’t have much to report, especially since I was only there for a couple hours, but it was at least worth sharing some photos.

The first thing I noticed on my walk from the train station to the center is that a lot of construction has finally been completed. The tunnel where the neo-nazi beggars used to hang out is gone, and a lot of the roads and sidewalks have been redone. The main square (or Marktplatz) still revolves around the statue of Handel, Halle’s most famous native son, but the soviet-era information booth is gone, and still more construction is ongoing.

Like pretty much every other city in former East Germany, Halle has been constantly under construction for the past 15 or so years. Even though Halle was more or less intact at the end of WWII, the Altstadt (old city) suffered horrible neglect in the GDR, while all construction efforts of the era were dedicated to building up Halle-Neustadt, possibly the most depressing place on earth. Imagine a giant, cold, grey, square slab of cement that is 10 stories tall. Then imagine about 100 of these, all in close proximity to each other, separated only by grey, paved streets and walkways. No trees, no parks, not so much as a red fire hydrant. Neustadt is just like that, only more depressing.

I was lucky enough to live in the Altstadt, in a partially-renovated old building. I say “lucky” because at least when I looked out the window, I didn’t feel like jumping. Although run down, the Altstadt definitely had more charm than Neustadt. The partial renovation of my building had involved adding plumbing to one and only one room in each apartment (the one closest to the central stairwell). Therefore my shower was in the kitchen (where else would it be?). To get to the toilet, I had to actually leave my apartment and go up half a floor to a tiny little room just off the stairwell. While the top of the stairwell was covered, the bottom was completely open, meaning it was damn cold in the winter (the toilet room did have a little heater, but who wants to go out in the cold to turn on a heater five minutes before going out into the cold to use the toilet?). I had constant nightmares about waking up in the middle of the night needing to tinkle, and somehow locking myself out of my apartment (the door locked automatically when shut).

The other reason I was lucky was because I had electric heat in my home. Many people I knew had to literally haul buckets of coal up from the basement each day to heat their apartments and bathwater. Others had to suffer the fumes and black scum left by oil heat.

But back to my recent trip. I met a couple of old friends for lunch at one of our old hang-outs, the Café N-8. Back in the day, it was THE place to be and be seen. Newly opened, it was the only locale in town with such modern décor and glass walls. Plus the bartenders were hotties. We sipped Rotkäppchen (a staple of my diet during my Halle years) and reminisced about the old days, like when the large glass front of the café used to look out onto an unending construction site.

Before I knew it, it was time for me to head back to the station to catch my train to Dresden. This short trip back to Halle brought back so many memories of my life there, in a dynamic city full of fascinating people trying to adjust to the fact that although they hadn’t gone anywhere, they suddenly lived in a completely different country. Obviously this visit inspired me to write about some of my experiences there. Maybe I’ll keep going.